


The Undoing of Mickey Milkovich

by orphan_account



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Kinda prequel-y, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:37:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4451498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Mickey resisted Ian's gaze and one time he didn't</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Undoing of Mickey Milkovich

**Author's Note:**

> (Damn I'm addicted to 5 +1 things, sorry I'm not sorry)  
> This fic kind of takes place before and during the beginning of the show, because I thought it would be cute if Mickey had a crush on Ian before everything happened. I know it's not exactly canon-compliant (pretty sure Fi mentioned they'd lived in the same house their whole life) but oh well. I like new-kid things, okay? :D   
> Enjoy!  
> Warnings: Explicit for kind of descriptive sex between Kash and Ian (blergh)

1.

* * *

Mickey Milkovich wasn’t gay. There were gay people, and then there was Mickey Milkovich, a guy who, okay yeah, maybe he could appreciate a hot package every once in a while, but it was a strictly look-don’t-touch kind of appreciation. And if the fucker he was staring at caught him staring, you could bet your fucking ass they’d be taking a beating. So when new kid Gallagher, Ian stood at the front of the class introducing himself, Mickey absolutely did not notice that he had a-fucking-dorable puppy eyes, a flop of bright ginger hair that probably matched the hair on his junk, and a thousand watt smile that could make hearts skip a beat whether you were a fag or not. Nope, Mickey didn’t notice that shit at all.

“Mr. Gallagher, introduce yourself to the class,” the teacher leered, and yep, faggoty old Prof. Perv definitely noticed all the things Mickey didn’t. He stood closer to Ian than was strictly necessary, held his hand a beat longer than needed when he shook the kid’s hand, and his fingers rested lower on the new kid’s back than they really should’ve. But Gallagher smiled charmingly up at him before turning back to the rest of the class.

“I’m Ian Gallagher, and I just moved in down on South Side.” A titter made his smile slip a little, and Mickey gave the entire class a glare; what the fuck was wrong with South Side? They all immediately fell silent under Mickey’s snarl and Gallagher’s full smile turned appreciatively to Mickey. Mickey pretended not to notice.

“And where did you come from, Ian?” Prof. Perv asked, his fingers inching lower still. Fuck, he was disgusting; Gallagher was like ten. Mickey wanted to vomit. But the redhead only smiled brightly at the professor before turning back to address the class. “I’m from—”

“Hoboland?”

It was Ronnie, one of the kids Mickey sometimes hung around with, who offered up the word that made everyone laugh out loud. Gallagher bit his lip and hung his little puppy head as they laughed because… because what? Because his shoes were scuffed and his clothes were patchy? Because he wore obvious hand me downs made for a shorter, more muscular kid?

“Shut the _fuck_ up,” Mickey drawled and the class again was silenced. Gallagher didn’t smile at Mickey this time, but he gave Mickey a look that made him shift in his seat. It was the first of six looks that would be the undoing of Mickey Milkovich.

 2.

* * *

 

The second look was three years later in the boy’s locker room. Of course it was. Mickey was getting out of the shower and Gallagher was going into it, and of fucking course the universe conspired to make them bump into each other and drop both towels. Mickey couldn’t help his eyes—goddamn traitors, he should’ve cut them out of his head—as they confirmed that, indeed, Gallagher’s pubic hair was as vibrant as the fluff on his head. And shit, he was well hung.

Gallagher apparently noticed the same about Mickey, and he seemed to forget his towel as he ran his eyes up and down Mickey’s body and licked his lips in appreciation. Mickey was about to tell him to hurry up and grab the fucking towel before anyone noticed, but apparently Ronnie had been watching because he suddenly let out a whoop and yelled, “Gallagher wants to bone Milkovich! Check out the fucking nerve on this one!” And it was true—Gallagher did have a lot of nerve if he thought he could spring a boner from checking out another guy _in the middle of the locker room_.

The ginger grabbed his towel, his body flushing scarlet as he wrapped it around his waist and all the guys started laughing hysterically, making jokes about not dropping the soap in the shower. And Mickey… well, shit, half of these guy’s dads were friends with his, so he had to react, right?

“You fucking faggot,” Mickey growled, before swinging a well-aimed punch into the side of Gallagher’s jaw. Except he hadn’t meant to hit Gallagher quite so hard, and he couldn’t stop the small flash of mortification from crossing his face as Gallagher’s head snapped back, hit the wall, and stained a portion of it crimson. He also couldn’t stop himself from getting kinda turned on when the well-hung object of his violence had the nerve to grab Mickey’s shoulder and steady himself, as if Mickey hadn’t been the one who hit him. The second look was Ian Gallagher’s eyes widening as he glanced from Mickey’s half-hard cock to his face. And then—and fuck if this wasn’t the biggest joke in the world—understanding flashed across his features and he turned to everyone in the locker room, spreading his arms to get their attention on him to give Mickey time to grab a towel and cover himself.

“Yes. I’m gay. I like dick. Any questions?”

His admission was enough that not even Ronnie was looking at Mickey. It was also enough to get him bullied for the rest of his high school career, and bear the brunt of all faggot jokes. No one else dared to come out, so when anyone talked about gays, they always mentioned the ‘Ginger Fag in Milkovich’s Class.’

 3.

* * *

 

The third look was so fucked up, a year after the second. Gallagher did it on purpose, Mickey fucking swore. Mickey was sitting in class—not skipping for the first time in ages—when he casually glanced over at the kid. Gallagher was concentrating on the board, tapping his pencil against his lip in a corner all by himself. So, of course, since he was the only one over there, he noticed Mickey’s look. And then he… the fucking nerve of it…

He gave Mickey a grin and absentmindedly slid the pencil a little further into his mouth and wrapped his lips around it _just so._ Okay, so maybe he was just a pencil biter (he was—Mickey paid attention afterwards and realized maybe Gallagher hadn’t been putting on a show just for him) but when he turned back to the Professor, he moved the pencil around his lips so seductively Mickey’s breath caught. And when he opened his mouth to ask a question and his tongue skimmed the tip of the pencil, Mickey had to get up and leave.

His breathing was erratic as he slammed a bathroom stall door closed and hastily undid his belt, and though he could usually jerk off for a while, it took twenty seconds thinking of Gallagher’s slutty little mouth before he came harder than he ever had with a shuddering moan that sounded suspiciously like “Gallagher.”

 4.

* * *

 

The fourth look was a few months after the third. The universe did its fucked up thing again and Gallagher ended up getting his name picked out of a hat a second after Mickey’s. They were partners for a fucking science project. Mickey hated fucking science projects.

“So, uh… hi. I’m Ian,” Gallagher said, holding out his hand like one of those fucktards with the too white smiles and polo shirts from commercials. Mickey gave him a lengthy glare—he knew who Gallagher was, how could he not?—and the ginger nodded awkwardly, laughing a little before dropping his hand.

“Fair enough. So, Mickey—” The way Gallagher’s lips formed around his name made Mickey twitch and drop his gaze to look away lest he do something he’d regret. “—I’ll do the project myself for ten bucks.”

Mickey was at once grateful and annoyed. Grateful because he hadn’t wanted to do the project anyway, and ten bucks was cheap for the amount of work it needed. But annoyed that Gallagher—that ‘Hi-I’m-Ian-Who-Doesn’t-Mind-Getting-Taken-Advantage-Of’—only charged him ten bucks. He’d bet anything the kid had done this before and he returned his eyes to Gallagher’s with a sneer.

“And why should I trust you with our grades? South Side kids don’t give a shit about grades, and I need a good one on this project to pass. You honestly think I believe that you’ll buck up and get us an A-fucking-plus?”

Gallagher blinked in surprise before nodding thoughtfully, as if that hadn’t even occurred to him. “Sorry, I guess I just wasn’t expecting you to care that much. You have something you want to do after high school?”

Mickey scowled, looking away again. No, he didn’t, but for the first time he felt sort of ashamed about it. And about the fact that he hadn’t taken a shower in three days. Christ, he must stink, and Gallagher was watching his every move with those big, pretty doe-eyes. He finally really met Gallagher’s gaze, and forced his voice to sound more calm than defensive. “What’s it matter? We’re talking about you. Do you even wanna graduate?”

“Yes.” The answer came immediately and Gallagher sat up straighter, his eyes going all sparkly like some fucking princess in one of those Disney movies that Mandy loved. Shit, he was cu—no. No no no, Mickey Milkovich did not think about guys—or anyone, for that matter—that way.

“Why the fuck would you wanna go and do something stupid like that?” Mickey demanded to cover up the uncomfortable warmth that was flushing its way up his neck.

“I need to graduate and get good grades to get into a military school. I want to become an officer and serve my country the best way I can. My brother thinks I’ll end up getting blown up or something, but even if I do, I’ve helped my country, right?”

Mickey blinked as the words flooded out of the squirming ginger, who looked happy to be able to confess this to someone, anyone—even Mickey Milkovich. Well, it wasn’t like he had any friends, so Mickey could understand it, but… the military? This naïve, innocent kid who grinned at people for no conceivable reason and looked like he could be blown over by the wind? No, actually, for that matter… he was gay. Was he going to confess that to the guys in the military? He’d get slaughtered, or beaten, or raped, or—fuck. Why did Mickey care, anyway?

“Here’s twenty bucks. Get me my fucking A plus. I’m leaving.”

He turned away, leaving Ian smiling oddly as he accepted the money. He couldn’t stand to be in the room one more second, then, so he got up and left, wandering aimlessly and kicking at beer cans on the road. He didn’t even know where his feet were taking him until he stopped at an address that was suspiciously familiar. Why was it… fuck. Oh fuck you, feet. It was the address he’d overheard from a conversation in the cafeteria; “Yeah, I heard like six kids live there by themselves. The Gallaghers! You know? The Ginger Fag, the genius, their younger siblings and their older sister?”

Mickey looked up at the house, wondering for a second if any of the windows facing the road were Ian’s—what did Ian’s room look like anyway?—and then he swore loudly and left, making his way to the bar. He spent the entire afternoon and evening there, drinking the night away until he’d drunk himself under a table. And even then, the last thing in his mind before he passed out, despite the fact that he’d been drinking to forget it, was an image of Ian’s eyes sparkling as he talked about serving his country. Too goddamn kind.

 

And since when had Mickey started thinking of him as Ian?

 5.

* * *

 

The fifth look nearly a year after the fourth pissed Mickey off so much he wanted to hit someone. Mandy had come home crying about how Ian had attacked her, and Mickey had shushed her, telling her he’d deal with it himself so don’t bother telling their brothers. He highly doubted Ian would do something like that—most likely Mandy hadn’t heard he was gay (she skipped way too much school)so she’d tried something on him—but he was going to confront him anyway. Just to see him squirm. Just to watch his face flush under his freckles as he shook his head and stammered out a denial. It had nothing to do with the fact that he might’ve just wanted to talk to Ian, no matter what it was about.

So he went to the place Ian worked, some shit little grocery store run by a Paki or something. He didn’t go there often, mostly because he was with his brothers and he knew he’d have to steal and okay, maybe he didn’t feel like stealing from Ian, but he knew its schedule by heart. And he knew it shouldn’t be closed in the middle of the fucking day—that was just plain weird. Emergency or something? Did something happen to Ian? He swallowed, then checked to make sure no one was watching as he pulled out his lock pick set and set to work on the door.

It came open easy enough and he slid inside, shutting it quietly behind him. He looked around, frowning when he saw that there wasn’t a single person in sight. Where the hell was everyone? He crept along the aisles, peering down them to see if there was anyone lurking around, but—

A noise from the back room caught his attention. It sounded like a voice, but not like it was speaking. It sounded more like… Mickey swallowed thickly, keeping his footsteps soft as he inched towards the door, his eyes set on the little window he could peer through to see what was going on inside. His fingertips rested on the door for a second before he looked in, and he almost turned away, afraid of what he would see. What he saw when he worked up the courage was even worse than he’d thought.

Ian’s large hands were splayed out on the Paki’s back, his pale fingers working into the dark skin as he moved against the much older man. Or, rather than against him, _into_ him. Both boss and employee were completely naked, and Ian was fucking the old guy up the ass while the old fucker took it with loud, disgusting moans. Mickey recoiled, his stomach content rising to his throat, but a second before he’d completely turned his eyes away, he caught sight of Ian’s face.

Ian’s eyes were screwed shut, his brows furrowed as if he were in pain, but the way his lips trembled and he worked the lower one between his teeth, it was obvious it wasn’t pain he was feeling. He tilted his head back as Mickey watched, exposing a long, pale arch of a throat that would look fantastic with a few hickeys. “Oh fuck. Fuck yes, _yes_ ,” Ian groaned as he pumped into the store owner again and again, rolling his hips, his pace getting more frantic as he reached climax. At the last second, his eyes cracked open, wet with tears of pleasure, and met Mickey’s. They widened just a fraction and although Mickey couldn’t hear the whisper, he saw Ian’s mouth form his name the way it had the first time they’d really spoken. And then…

And then Mickey was running out of the store, not caring if anyone saw him or not. Running down the street, trying to conjure up any other image than the one of Ian coming while saying his name. While _fucking his boss_. God, that was disgusting. Here Mickey’d thought Ian was some innocent kid who maybe thought about seduction from time to time while he chewed on his pencil, when the whole time he’d been shooting his load into a guy at least twice his age.

He burst into his house and the two other Milkovich brothers looked up curiously, a slight excitement tinging their expressions as if they could sense what Mickey was about to say.

“Ian Gallagher fucked with Mandy. You two coming?”

 

6 (+1).

* * *

 

Mickey’d been having a shit day. Someone called the cops to report his brothers for beating some gang member, and they’d had to deal with cops and the other gang members all day. He shook his head in disgust, only wanting to go to his room and maybe get high. Until he noticed that his room door was half open. The fuck? _No one_ , not even Mandy, ever went in there without his permission.

His anger rose like a tide as he stormed into his room, flinging the door open completely, only to see huge, familiar eyes staring at him in shock and fear. Familiar eyes set under a red tuft of hair in a pale face full of freckles. He’d managed to keep himself together for the first five looks, even though the last one had been fuel for every wet dream he’d had since the time in the store. But this time… this time he couldn’t hold anything in anymore.

 

This time would be his undoing.

**Author's Note:**

> PS- For the purpose of this fic, Mick's failed a couple of grades (sorry, love, I know you're not stupid but you need to quit skipping school!)


End file.
